


The Quartermaster

by weekend_conspiracy_theorist



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Ace!Q - Freeform, Discussion of Suicide in the first chapter, Gen, nonbinary!Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5634628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekend_conspiracy_theorist/pseuds/weekend_conspiracy_theorist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two times that Q came through for their double ohs, braving their phobia of heights and a review board in the process</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Clearing out my WIPs with the start of the new year! I may go back and write out a few of the other "Q helps the double ohs" scenes I had in mind, adding more chapters, but for now here this is

The wind bit through Q’s parka as they and Tanner entered the roof. Q hunched, sticking their hands in their pockets, and kept silent pace with the Chief of Staff as they moved towards the ramrod back of the elegant double oh.

 

Tanner murmured a few final words of assurance to M and snapped shut his mobile, shooting the Quartermaster a searching look. “You could stay back, you know,” he murmured. “There’s no need for you to be involved.” Carefully left unsaid but still heavily implied, “You’ll probably just make things worse.”

 

Q pulled to a stop, and Tanner paused next to them. They were far enough back to remain out of earshot of 002- though undoubtedly she knew they were there- and the Quartermaster leveled an unimpressed gaze onto Tanner. The Chief of Staff resisted the urge to fidget.

 

“Contrary to popular belief,” Q murmured, breath coming out in cloudy puffs, “I’m rather excellent at dealing with people. My methods may be unorthodox, I admit, but they’re effective. There’s quite a bit more than just computers involved in my job, you know, and they wouldn’t have hired a twenty-seven year old, nonbinary _hacker_ to this position, no matter their frankly stunning credentials, if they couldn’t handle _every_ part of the job better than any other candidate. Do you understand the prejudice I’ve overcome, both regarding my youth and regarding my gender?” Q shook their head. “But I digress; the point, Tanner, is that _you_ should be the one staying back.”

 

Tanner raised his eyebrows as Q stared at him mulishly. “Oh?” he asked, quiet and bland.

 

“She’s more likely to respond positively to someone she doesn’t see as a superior—even if I technically _am_ her superior and you technically _report_ to her superior, the double ohs tend to view you and your connection to M as more dangerous, for lack of a better word, than myself. I was also her handler on her last mission, making me uniquely qualified to deal with the fallout should this prove to have anything to do with that. Additionally, I have what many people call a ‘trustworthy face’ and a ‘nonthreatening physique,’ making her more likely to admit even a small portion of the truth to me, whereas she would probably lie to you completely.” Q pulled their scarf up over their nose. When they next spoke, their voice was muffled slightly. “What points do you have in your favor, Tanner? Vague emotional connection because you discuss television shows together every now and again? 002 commented on my music tastes once; we both prefer Queen to the Beatles.”

 

“This is why you volunteered to pick me up, isn’t it,” Tanner commented drily, tucking his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t really disagree with the reasoning, though.

 

“I was going to bring it up on the drive, but you’ve been on the phone nonstop since I pulled up to the curb outside your café,” Q agreed, just as deadpan.

 

“I hear you murmuring back there,” 002 said suddenly, and Tanner turned his face to her. She wasn’t looking at them, merely calling loudly enough to be heard anyway. “If you’re bickering over who to send, I’d rather talk to Tanner.”

 

Q smiled humorlessly. “Which means she believes I’m more likely to see through her. Are we in agreement?”

 

Tanner nodded shortly and watched as the Quartermaster shuffled across the roof. They stepped up to stand on the bottom bar, leaning their elbows on the one on top. To their right, 002 stood on the wrong side of the railing, leaning back against it with her eyes focused unseeingly on the city in front of her. Q glanced over at her, and then spoke. “Tanner and I decided that, given that you’re clearly here due to his unwillingness to acknowledge the obvious sexual tension between yourself and him, it would be best if I handled this after all.”

 

Tanner rolled his eyes, crossing his arms against the bite of the wind. He hoped, for several reasons, that this wouldn’t take long.

 

002 snorted. “He’s balding, Q, and a bit more portly than my normal type.”

 

“Tanner is a stunning specimen of a man, 002, and I’m surprised you can’t see it. On my list of ‘Would Bang if I Were At All Interested in Banging’ he ranks at least top 40.” Q smirked as she turned her head just enough to raise an eyebrow at them. “It’s a rather long list.”

 

She sighed. “You’re not going to lose your balance and fall, are you?” she asked, in a solid attempt at nonchalance. But something else, something vulnerable and raw, peeked through.

 

Tanner wouldn’t have known what to do with that. He was rather glad Q had taken over.

 

“Have you ever seen _Rent_?” Q asked drily. “I think if Mimi can do a strip dance along the fire escape and not slip, I can stand fully on this side of the railing and manage not to tip off the side of your building.” Q waited a beat, then shrewdly asked, “ _You’re_ not going to lose your balance and fall, are you?”

 

“I’m not suicidal, Q.” She shifted slightly to reveal a carabiner clip latched onto both her belt and the railing. (Tanner pulled out his phone to send a quick text.)

 

Q hummed. “Oh, that’s excellent. Why are we up here then?”

 

“Sometimes I find it necessary to stand on the edge of a building and _pretend_ I’m suicidal.”

 

“That sounds like a very unhealthy coping mechanism.”

 

“Double ohs aren’t exactly known for healthy ones.”

 

“True, but normally they involve booze and/or sex. This is a new one in my experience; care to explain?”

 

002 looked at them, expression guarded. “Does it matter?”

 

Q smiled softly. “It matters very much, yes. You see, that carabiner clip probably isn’t strong enough to catch you, even ignoring the rather flimsy material of your belt, and you’re smart enough to know it. Whether or not you’re actively suicidal, there’s just a piece of you hoping that if you did happen to slip, you wouldn’t be caught. I’d like to know if there’s anything I can do to help—such as design a _proper_ safety system for you, should you continue to want to stand on the edge of rooftops.”

 

She crossed her arms over her chest, turning back to the horizon. “It puts things in perspective. My responses up here are _my_ responses and not my cover’s,” she told Q flatly. “When I think about what aspects of my life would run through my mind as I fell, they’re the aspects of _my_ life. They’re not the lies I tell or the lies I let myself believe.”

 

“I know what it’s like to live your life pretending to be someone you’re not,” Q murmured, and Tanner winced. Empathizing with double ohs rarely got you anything but punched in the—

 

But 002 merely nodded, looking sad, and maybe she was a bit more perceptive than Tanner was. Of course Q knew a bit of what she was going through; Q’s adolescent years couldn’t have been pleasant, given everything.

 

Q continued even as Tanner berated himself. “It’s wearying,” they told 002 softly, “especially if you have no one to confide in. And you don’t, do you? _Tanner_ was sent to try and talk you down, and that man’s best friend is his photocopier.”

 

002 laughed, a rather bitter and sour and maybe even broken sound, but still promising. “Q, you’re kind of a bastard.”

 

Tanner agreed.

 

“I’m also an excellent listener.” Q nudged her shoulder very, very gently with theirs. “If you wanted to come back onto solid ground and tell me a few of the things that are real about you and unconnected to your covers. And then the next time you get the urge to come up here, you can come by my office and I’ll remind you of them. If that doesn’t work, I can send you off with a proper harness and Q Branch forged carabineer.”

 

“I’m not ready to come down just yet,” she murmured.

 

Q shrugged. “Then you can tell me while you’re still here, or I can wait until you’re ready. The view up here is quite nice, after all; almost enough to make me understand why some people _enjoy_ climbing tall things.”

 

002 frowned as Q’s words sunk in. “You’re scared of heights,” she stated flatly, turning to study the Quartermaster.

 

Q shrugged again. “I’d consider it more that I have a hearty distrust of them.”

 

“You’re standing on the edge of a roof talking to me,” she informed them, utterly bewildered.

 

“Well, it was either this or try to lasso you,” Q informed her, blasé. “I must admit, my Wonder Woman cosplay may _look_ impeccable, but I still haven’t gotten the wrist motion down quite right.” 002 blinked, and Q grinned slightly. “But we were talking about _your_ secrets, 002.”

 

She hesitated slightly, and then slowly told them, parsing her words carefully, “For one thing, my name is Sally.”

 

Tanner knew that Q had known the double oh agent’s name since long before they’d taken up the mantle of Quartermaster, but the name was hardly the point—the offering, now, that was important.

 

“Sally,” Q murmured, nodding. “Lovely.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Q?” Alec pulled up short, staring in confusion at the skinny Quartermaster leaning against the wall beside the door he was headed for. He began moving again slowly, brow knit in confusion but not quite able to straighten it out.

 

“Ah, 006.” Q slipped their phone back into their pocket and straightened off of the wall. They studied Alec appraisingly, tutting at what they found there. “You didn’t even try to dress for this, did you?”

 

“Yes, well, neither did you,” Alec huffed, although he obligingly lifted his chin to let Q straighten out his collar, do up a few buttons, and magically produce a tie from somewhere in their cardigan. Those green eyes brokered no arguments. “Or…” Alec winced, looking over the neater-than-usual cardigan and the way a comb had obviously been drawn through their hair. “Is this as dressed up as you get?”

 

Q glanced up, amusement tugging at their lips. “No, 006, I can assure you that I clean up quite nicely, both in quote-unquote ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ clothing. This, however…” Q tightened the tie and then stepped back, assessing once more, and then moved to fix Alec’s hair and tuck in his shirt. “This is not _my_ disciplinary hearing.” A pause. “I also may not have known this was happening until about twenty minutes ago.”

 

“Then why are you here?” Alec asked, loosening the tie just slightly and raising his eyebrows at Q. “Better question,” he grumbled, “why am _I_ here?” (Of course, he knew the answer to that. He had, in fact, _showed up_ , hadn’t he?)

 

Q ignored the second question (their suddenly iron grip on Alec’s upper arm proving that they weren’t ignorant of it, however) and smirked. “My input is always needed, whether the fact is initially acknowledged or not.”

 

“Arrogant prick,” Alec muttered, though a small voice in the back of his mind told him that if he’d listened to Q’s advice on his last mission, he wouldn’t be facing the firing squad right now.

 

“Why do you people always say that like I should be ashamed?” Q sighed as they checked their watch. “Anyway, we need to walk in now or we’ll be late.”

 

“And I was going to be early and everything,” Alec sighed, moving to the door.

 

Q snorted, murmuring “And the effect would have been ruined by how disheveled you looked. You’ve at least broken even,” as they followed Alec inside.

 

“006, how nice of you not to keep us waiting,” M stated professionally. His eyes flicked to the right. “Quartermaster, I wasn’t expecting your presence.”

 

“Yet I’ve chosen to grace you with it anyway.” Q smiled thinly, taking the seat directly across from M (and directly next to Alec).

 

There were half a dozen other high level government types present, along with Tanner. Alec probably had learned their names and job titles at some point in the past, but he couldn’t be bothered to remember them now. He slouched back in his chair- not nearly as devoted to looking professional as Q obviously wanted him to be (frankly the hacker should be pleased he even showed up)- and smiled lazily (a lion’s grin and he knew it). “I also showed up, don’t I get brownie points?”

 

“It would be best,” said a paunchy, white haired man to the left of M, “if you didn’t treat this as a joke, 006.”

 

“Yes, in fact, it would,” Q murmured, green eyes sharp as they bore into the side of Alec’s head, and the double oh sighed and straightened in his chair. Two of the government drones exchanged glances.

 

“Are we ready to start, then?” One of them asked, and there was a general murmur of consensus. He nodded once, sharply, and turned his attention back to Alec. “Alec Trevelyan, codename 006, last month you were on a mission in Kazakhstan, is that correct?”

 

“Sir, yes, sir,” Alec drawled.

 

Q’s foot lashed out under the table. “A little less snark next time,” they murmured—practically breathed. Just loud enough for only Alec to hear.

 

The government drone continued speaking, oblivious. “If you would, please describe to us the parameters of your mission.”

 

“Infiltrate the local branch of страдание, investigate their operations, and take judicious action against the organization if and only if they were a direct threat to England or her interests. I had the secondary objective of targeting and assassinating the minor warlord in charge, Aibek Kaliyev. For much of the mission I was necessarily radio silent, though Q Branch had provided me with both an earwig and an emergency signal transmitter for communication purposes, should the need arise,” Alec recited by rote, his eye twitching with the effort. Q had best fucking appreciate it.

 

Q hummed softly. “Additionally, 006 was provided with the standard biometrically locked Walther PPKS.”

 

Alec glanced over, nodding slightly in acknowledgement. “I was not, however, expected to use it. Even in assassinating Kaliyev, I was supposed to keep things clean and quiet and extricate myself without alerting страдание to my presence.”

 

“The key word there being ‘supposed,’” M commented drily.

 

“My thoughts exactly,” the main drone agreed, clasping his hands on the table in front of him. “The first four weeks of the mission, 006, proceeded ostensibly as planned, yes?”

 

“Well, for the first four weeks страдание behaved as if they were exactly what we’d thought they were. They acted like any good drug dealing and money counterfeiting ring who dabble in weapons manufacturing should. Kaliyev remained outside of my reach, but it didn’t seem like it would be long before I would make initial contact.” Alec smiled toothily. “But Week Five was when I discovered the child trafficking.”

 

“At that point you made contact with Q Branch to ask about the possibility of changing the parameters of your mission, yes?”

 

“Q Branch was officially unable to confirm the request,” Q stated, though the question had been directed at Alec. “We’re an intelligence agency, not an international police force.”

 

The government man narrowed his eyes. “And unofficially?”

 

“Q definitely did not give me license to do what I did next if that’s what you’re insinuating,” Alec started hotly, but Q laid a hand on his shoulder, smiling benignly.

 

“There’s no need, 006. I am perfectly capable of answering this question myself.” They turned back to the panel of their angry looking superiors. “I most certainly did give 006 license to do exactly what he did next.”

 

Q sat quietly through the sudden cacophony of raised voices- the half a dozen government drones berating Q, M demanding calm, Alec protesting the Quartermaster’s assertion- before calmly declaring, “ _Enough_ ,” in their most commanding voice. Silence fell immediately. “The simple fact of the matter is that 006’s plan sounded like it would achieve his secondary objective as well as the primary, and while страдание was technically no danger to England, they very easily could become such. There was also the added bonus of the liberation of a dozen odd children from a future of sex slavery. As such, I signed off on the plan, giving no indication to 006 that I was acting without official sanction.”

 

Alec leaned in, hissing, “Q, what the hell are you—“

 

“006, is this the version of events you remember?” M broke in, tone urgent.

 

“No, it bloody hell is not the version of events that I bloody fucking—“

 

“006, be quiet,” Q snapped, and Alec’s teeth clacked together as he obliged. He bloody hated that Quartermaster voice and its near magical ability to make him listen. They turned back to M, eyebrows raised. “Take that as a prime example. I have impeccable control over my agents; do you honestly believe that 006 would have gone so extremely off mission without my blessing?”

 

“It’s different when you’re several hundred miles away, Q,” Alec argued. “Or are you trying to take credit for every pigheaded thing we do in the field?”

 

M pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and counted to ten. He then shook it off and turned to the aide in the far back corner who was furiously transcribing the meeting. “Where are the mission logs?”

 

The young man fidgeted in his chair. “See, the thing is—“

 

“They’ve been wiped,” Q provided helpfully, and M’s head snapped back around.

 

“Oh, because that’s not incriminating, Q,” Alec growled. He looked imploringly at M. “What motivation would they have to erase the details of our conversation unless they were coming in here to lie to your faces?”

 

“Oh, it wasn’t me,” Q stated offhandedly. “The style of the hack implicated one of the minions, undoubtedly paid off by 006 in an attempt to protect me much as he's trying to do now; I’m dealing with it internally, but I don’t want to clip the minions’ wings too much, you know. We don’t pay them particularly well. And if it’s anything too dreadful they all assure me they’ll come to me before allowing the double ohs to talk them into it.” Q shrugged.

 

The panel stared at them.

 

Alec buried his face in his hands.

 

M pinched the bridge of his nose again.

 

An hour later, Q and Alec left the room last, the Quartermaster looking indelibly smug and the double oh seething internally (and a bit externally). He grabbed Q’s upper arm, dragging them down a little used hallway. Q didn’t struggle, instead simply looking rather bemused.

 

Alec pressed them against the wall (carefully not hurting them), crowding their personal space. “Q, what the hell was that?”

 

“I have a photographic memory and the kind of skills that had me on a terrorist watch list long before I signed on with Six, even though I had never taken any action against England or her allies. I’m also very, very good at my job,” Q stated, shrugging. “In other words, I’m inactionable. You’re not.”

 

“It’s not like they can do much to me either, after the number of years I’ve worked here,” Alec pointed out, feeling himself nearly vibrating with anger. “And I’ve done worse in the past for much less noble reasons. I’d have, what, gotten several months of probation?”

 

“And for me, they’ve basically just told me to take the weekend off and watch myself in the future. The latter is an empty threat, the former Moneypants probably would have forced on me anyway.” Q gently extricated themselves from Alec’s grip, then patted him lightly on the shoulder. “Besides, 006, we both know exactly what would have happened, had you been put on probation. You’d have lasted about one week before going stir crazy and beginning to blow up non-integral portions of HQ’s infrastructure.”

 

Alec backed off, rather disgruntled, and began tugging at the tie Q had given him. “How do _you_ know that’s what would happen?”

 

Q shot him a look. “006.”

 

Alec sighed, tossing the tie at them. “Fine. But never, and I mean never, do that again. Promise me.”

 

Q shrugged, slipping the tie into one pocket. “Shan’t. I mean, if you’re a complete, bugger all arsehole on a mission and cock it up all on your own, I won’t cover for you. But while I may not have signed off on your plan, 006, I _was_ attempting to suggest a better one, as you would have known if you had listened to me—a plan that meant less risk to yourself, less risk to the children, but was still just as thoroughly off books as yours.

 

“I will never allow one of my agents to take an unnecessary fall, do you understand me? If I can reasonably accept the blame onto myself instead of it falling onto one of you, I will.” Q began walking towards Q Branch, stating flatly, “Get used to it.”

 

 


End file.
